Oh, Oliver Sessions
by Trish-Ah
Summary: She let his name slip at the wrong moment.
1. Oh, Oliver

**I don't own Hannah Montana.**

**This is SMUT. A LEMON. A SEXUAL STORY.**

**This is a FAIR WARNING to those who might be/will be offended. Do NOT read unless you are of age, and are mature enough.**

It wasn't quite clear how she got into this position. Her mind was clouded by the amount of alcohol she consumed, making her weak and vulnerable. The room was dark and all she could see was the light that was shinning underneath the door from the hallway.

She only knew this situation was real and not pretend by Goosebumps on her arms as she felt him between her legs, his bulge more than noticeable. The only thing that separated him from her were his faded denim jeans and her silk panties. She had her legs wrapped around his torso and she tightened them around him with every pleasure she received upon her own chest.

She could feel his shaggy hair across her naked upper body as he kissed her. First, he started with the nape of her neck as he made his way down, slowly. He led a trail of kisses down to her navel and then he worked his way back up, his mouth landing on her right breast as his hand kneaded the left.

In the back of her mind, she knew this wrong on many occasions. She didn't want to be with him, not like this, but she didn't stop him. What he was doing to her right now - well, it felt _good_, but it wasn't _him_. She tightened her legs around his torso as soon as _his_ face came to mind. She suddenly began to picture what it would be like - to be with _other_ and not this one.

She bit her bottom lip to keep herself from moaning as she felt his free hand trace over her white panties. She could feel his hot breath on her neck as he leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"Does that feel good?"

She didn't say anything. Instead, she kept her eyes shut as she felt his index finger push a little over the thin cloth. He began to move his finger slowly, up and down, and sighed in pleasure.

"How about this?" He asked, as she felt his hand slip underneath the silk, his finger making it's way over her.

"Yes," she breathed heavily, her mind filled with thoughts of _him._ "Don't stop," she whispered.

And he didn't. He started off slow at first, and soon, his pace picked up.

She felt herself arch as she reached climax, and she did nothing to stop herself from moaning. "Oh, Oliver!"

_Shit._

"Oliver?"

_Shit. Shit._

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!"

As heated as she was, she suddenly felt very cold as her boyfriend of six months pulled himself up off her body. She shivered as she watched the shadow in darkness move off the bed, his hands picking up what looked like his shirt.

"I - I didn't -"

"You didn't just fantasize about fucking Oliver?" He asked, his anger clearly visible through the sound of his voice. "If you want to be with him so badly, then go!"

"Devon, I don't -"

She pulled the covers up over her chest. She suddenly felt very exposed.

"Just drop it, Lilly. We're over."

And then she found herself blinded as the door opened, the light now fully exposed in the room. The last she saw of Devon Gilbert that night was the nakedness of his back as it walked away from her and back to the party down the stairs, the proof of her profound love of Oliver scratched into his skin.

**Smut**

He was sitting at the bottom of the stairs, his glass of Crown Royal empty save for the melting ice cubes. He was buzzed. Quite buzzed, really, because as he looked up from his glass and back to the living room, he could see nothing straight that wasn't within two feet of him. His shaggy brown hair feel into his eyes and he leaned his head onto the banister for support. Okay, so he wasn't buzzed. He was drunk.

At least the party was at his house, though. He didn't have to worry about driving.

"Ollie! Okster! Ollie Okster the Jokester!"

Oliver opened up one eye to meet the eyes of his best friend, Miley Stewart.

"Have you seen Lilly-kins?" She giggled.

She was drunk, too.

"Nope," He brought his head up and pointed a finger at Miley. "You were supposed to watch her," he slurred as he looked at his empty glass. "Why's all the rum gone?"

"Well I left her with Devon," Miley raised an eyebrow and looked up the stairs. "You don't suppose…?"

Lilly? His Lilly? "No," he shook his head as he pulled himself up with the support of the banister. "Damn, why did I drink so much?"

At that moment, there was a loud thud above the stairs, followed by fast thuds down the stairs. Oliver peered over at the person coming down the stairs and took note that it was Devon. With his shirt off.

"Are those scratch marks?" Oliver asked, more to himself, as he held onto the banister with dear life.

"Where's Lilly?" Miley demanded.

Devon turned on to Miley. "Upstairs."

Miley looked at Oliver for a minute before she quickly turned and started to stumble up the stairs.

Devon looked at Oliver and shook his head. "You might want to go upstairs, your girlfriend is more than ready for a fuck session with you."

Oliver just blinked for a second. "What?"

Devon just shook his head and left out the door.

Oliver looked at the closed door for about a half hour until he finally shook his head clear when Lilly and Miley made their way back down the stairs, Miley and Lilly both in smiles.

When he looked at Lilly, he raised an eyebrow. "What's a fuck session and where is this girl that's more than ready?"

**Oh my, my, my… The Lolivers at Colorful Friends tainted my brain =P Actually, it has always BEEN tainted. This is my first Smut. Like it? Love it? Hate it? Please, comment and review. I know it's short, but I'm in a rush. More tomorrow *grin* Or tonight? Hmmm…**


	2. Oh, Oliver I'm sorry

**I hate this part right here. I hate this part right here. I just can't take your tears. I hate this part right here. I don't want to tell you this, but I don't own Hannah Montana. Some of you wish I did. Some of you wish you did. But we don't. **

**Maybe after ready this, you'll understand why it's a good thing I don't =P**

Someone was yelling and his head was hurting. Maybe it was the little voice in his head - trying to get out. He didn't know why he agreed to it, especially after the previous night, but here he was - at the beach with a pair of dark, big sunglasses covering his brown eyes from the sun. The worst thing you could do after a night of drinking like last night is to go out in the sun, but when she called, needing him, he couldn't say no.

He could never say no to her.

And there he went. Every single thought in his mind, every part on his body, reacted to her as he went down that road. He didn't remember much from the previous night, be he did remember her coming down the stairs, smiling at him with her cheeks a light pink. His mind couldn't process it at the time, but it did now. She was having sex. In his guest bedroom. Without him.

As pissed as he was, he was also extremely turned on by thought of having her lying naked in his room, in his bed, with him on top of her. It was wrong, he knew, to have these kinds of thoughts of his other best friend, but he couldn't help it. He wanted her since kindergarten.

As if on cue, he suddenly felt a pair of angel-like hands on his shoulders. He closed his eyes as he felt her slowly begin to knead her hands over his green shirt, and he couldn't help but let out a sigh of pleasure at how good it felt.

She pressed up against him, her chest clearly on his back, and it took all his will power not to pull her around and place her on the table right there on the beach as she leaned in an whispered his name in his ear.

"Ollie."

Her breath was hot against his skin, and his nerves began to kick in as he began to bob his leg up and down. _Don't think about her naked. Don't think about her naked._

Then she moved from behind him and he got a clear look at her before she took the seat next to him. She was wearing a mini denim skirt that was torn at the bottom, and a white tank top. As she crossed her legs, he took a look at her long legs and then pictured his hands tracing her skin as he would inch closer and closer to the opening of her skirt…

"Oliver!"

Someone was yelling again.

"Wake up, Oken!" He felt a push on his head and he quickly groaned in pain as he placed his head on the table.

"Is this why you guys called me here?" He mumbled from the table. "So you could abuse my head?"

"No," Miley snorted. "We came to find Devon, actually."

Devon. He snorted. Devon was the only reason why he wasn't going to get into his best friend's skirt anytime soon.

"Why don't you just call him?" He asked as he brought his head up off the table so he could look at the beautiful blonde sitting next to him.

"He wont pick up," she made a face.

"Who doesn't pick up for their girlfriend?" he asked, a little oblivious.

Lilly and Miley exchanged looks. "Um, we're not dating anymore, Oliver." Lilly tilted her head at him and lightly, she lifted up his sunglasses and looked into his eyes. "Remember?"

He squinted at her. "Honestly, I don't remember much about last night," Oliver shrugged. "I thought you two had sex in my guest room. Or was that someone else?"

"No, they did," Miley giggled. "Or they almost did."

"Miley!" Lilly dropped the sunglasses back over his eyes and he watched as she hit Miley on the arm.

She was blushing, he could tell.

"I think - I think I should not be part of this conversation," Oliver stood up from the table. "Do you two want anything from Rico's?"

"Cheese fries, please?" Lilly asked as she bit her bottom lip.

"Nothing for me," Miley grinned then turned back to Lilly and whispered something.

This was his cue to turn around and leave before things became more awkward than they should have been.

**Smut**

She watched him until he reached Rico's stand, her heart racing.

"Miley, I can't believe you!"

"What?" Miley looked at Lilly innocently. "You should tell him."

"I'm not going to tell him I want him. Now."

"Now?" Miley asked, with a raised eyebrow. "Seriously?" she leaned back from Lilly with a look of disgust.

"Ever since last night, I can't _stop_ thinking about him like that!" Lilly blushed as she clenched her legs and she sat up. "A girl has needs, Miley."

"Well, yeah, I know that," Miley rolled her eyes. "I can barely keep my hands off of Jake. But Oliver?"

"Mm, Oliver…" Lilly closed her eyes as all her thoughts made their way to him.

"Okay, ew," Miley snapped her fingers in front of Lilly's face. "Don't have an orgasm right here."

"Do you think I could get him?" Lilly asked, opening her eyes and sitting on the edge of her seat. "Tonight?"

"To-tonight?" Miley shook her head. "I thought you said you only did it last night because you were drunk! Now your ready to go fully with Oliver?"

"I'm saying I only went as far as I did with Devon because I thought about Oliver, and," she bit her bottom lip as her cheeks began to grow pink. "I'm more than ready to go all the way with him."

Their conversation was brought to an end as Oliver returned. "I have good news and bad news," he coughed as he looked directly at Lilly. "The good news, I found Devon."

Lilly bit her bottom lip as she just looked at Oliver.

"The bad news? The cheese fries you wanted? Well, as you can see," Oliver pointed to grand-show area. His jeans were covered in what looked like the hot cheese. "Devon felt that I looked better in it."

"Oh, Oliver," Lilly let out a breath. "I'm so sorry."

Oliver smirked. "'_Oh Oliver'_? Apparently, that's why you two broke up. Care to explain your side of the story?"

**Not enough smut. Shame on me.**


	3. Oh, Oliver I'm gonna

**I'm not a millionaire. Thus, why I don't own Hannah Montana.**

Their lips were pressed against one another, their tongues dancing a tango together as he pushed the door to his home open. His parents weren't due home for another two days, and he wasn't going to waste those two days as long as he had her.

He kicked the door shut behind them as he brought his arms around her, lifting her him so that her legs were now wrapped around his hips and her hands were wrapped around his neck. He debated on if he should bring her up the stairs to his room, but the pulsing that was within him told him he couldn't wait. So he brought her into the living room and placed her down on to the couch, his body directly on top of her.

He broke their lips apart and they made eye contact. For a split second, each showed the emotion of concern, but that soon washed over as they both smiled and he started to kiss her neck, nipping at her gently.

"You're mine," he mumbled into her neck. "No one else's."

"Mmm," she moaned, closing her eyes shut. Her hands made their way under his shirt, her cool fingers sending shivers up his spine as she clawed at his back.

It was obvious that once Oliver learned of her slip, that was the ending of their friendship and the beginning of a relationship. He asked her to come back to his place so he could change, and while in the car, instead of talking, they touched. They felt. They explored each other's bodies at every stoplight.

It was a miracle they didn't crash and it was a miracle they made it as far as the couch.

He tore off her shirt and he looked over her exposed body.

"You should never wear clothes," he mumbled as he ran his hand over her black lacy bra.

She moaned as he gently played with her hard nipple through the fabric. He was teasing her and it turned her on even more.

Her hands made their way down to his jeans and she tugged at them. "Take these off," she grinned as she unbuttoned them. "I'm sure your mother wouldn't be too pleased to have cheese all over her couch."

"Cheese should be the least of her worries," he mumbled as he stood up and quickly took of his jeans before he climbed back on to of her, his bulge creeping through the soft fabric of his boxers. She opened her legs, her skirt rising high, and she pushed herself to him so that he was right at her entrance. Her hips began to rock back and forth on him.

He moaned into her ear. "That's not fair," he smiled, his eyes closed in pleasure. "I want to be inside of you first."

She opened her eyes and looked up into his innocently. "So what's stopping you?"

His lips crashed onto hers once more, their rhythm never breaking. "I want you, so bad…" he groaned. "But I don't know if I could stop this. It feels so," he moaned. "Good."

So she stopped. "I want you inside me," she pushed him up off her and sat up, taking off her bra. "Now."

She barely managed to take off her black lacy panties before she found him on top of her once more. His shirt was off now, and all that was left was her skirt and his boxers between them. She tugged at the waist band. "I want this off," she mumbled.

He grinned. "So take them off."

And she did. Her skirt quickly followed as he took it off, and now nothing was in their way.

She couldn't help but look at how big he was, and she suddenly felt scared. This was, after all, her first time.

Oliver sensed this, and he kissed her lightly on the lips. "It's okay, I'll be gentle."

"Oliver… have you…?"

He shut his eyes. "No."

"N-never?"

"No," he looked into her eyes. "But I promise, I'll take care of you."

And she trusted him to do that. "I want you, Oliver."

He moaned and nodded as he placed himself at her entrance. Slowly, inch by inch, be pushed him into her. With every little push, he would look into her yes. "Are you okay?" He whispered.

She nodded. It hurt, there was no doubt about that, but it also felt so good. It wasn't long until he was fully in her now, and her whole body suddenly felt full.

Full of him.

She moaned as he pulled out and slowly, and gently, pushed himself in her once again. After doing this several times, the pain subsided and her body was now filled with pleasure as he began to quicken his pace.

"Oh, god…"

"You are so.. un-fucking-believable," he moaned as he pushed into her harder. Faster.

"Oliver," she moaned his name as she closed her eyes. "Oh, Oliver… I'm gonna…"

He moaned as he felt her muscles tighten around him, her body shaking in pleasure that he brought her. He couldn't contain himself much longer and soon, his fluids began to flow with her own.

Both breathing heavy, he just collapsed on top of her chest, her heart beating in his ear.

"That was…"

"Amazing," she laughed a little and ran her fingers through his messy brown locks.

He buried his face in her chest, both trying to catch their breath.

They didn't need to say where they stood as far as together wise. They both knew.

It wasn't until they were about to fall asleep in each other's arms when one of them finally spoke.

"Oh, Oliver?"

"Hmm?"

"If I get pregnant, I'm going to fucking kill you."

**It's been decided. If I write any more smut, it'll be one-shots. This is the ending of the three-part Session. Anymore added to this section will not be a continue. I wanted to jump right into Lilly and Oliver doing the finale, but, you know, I wanted to capture Oliver finding out. So that's what the previous chapter was for. Hope you liked!**


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